


Out of Character

by TheWitchBoy



Series: Angst [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Best Friends, Birdflash - Freeform, Depressing, Depression, Destructive Behaviour, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Doesn't have to be slash - could just be clingy friends and misunderstandings, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, I think?, Introspection, Jason Todd's Death, M/M, New 52 sucks tho so of course its pre or post, Not Canon Compliant, Past Tense, Pre-New 52, Pre-Slash, Set Between Young Justice Season 2 and Season 3, Wally West is a Good Friend, Whump, im still bad at tags sorry, no homo jokes, thats my hill to die on fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28867491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWitchBoy/pseuds/TheWitchBoy
Summary: Jason died and Dick is not handling it well. Frankly, neither is Wally, but someone has to try and be there for Dick, right?
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Wally West, Dick Grayson/Wally West
Series: Angst [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116992
Comments: 12
Kudos: 82





	Out of Character

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a year or two back. It's not the best, but it seemed pretty complete so I'm posting it. Care Warning, though, because damn this is heavy, at least for me. Like, it's how I always want to react to high emotion, but don't (I want to break stuff, but I don't, is what I mean).
> 
> Timeline: idek, YJ mixed with pre52?, something.
> 
> Edit: *screams in unfortunate word choice (since removed)*

There was a crash, barely muffled by the apartment door.

  
Wally hesitated with his hand hovering just above the knob.

He knew it was bad, but he didn’t know how bad. It killed him that he was at such a loss after all these years. It killed him that there were still unknowns, dangerous unknowns, about his best friend. Most of all, it killed him that he didn’t know if Dick would bounce back, this time. If it would be okay.

Or if he’d lose Dick to this.

Wally curled his fingers into a fist and took a deep breath. Another crash-thump resounded through the door, and then Wally was pushing inside, spare key in hand.

“Dick?” he called.

The state of the front room was awful. The couch was actually overturned, glassware was shattered next to the counter, a vase and its previous contents were smashed against one wall and laying against the baseboard, and a floor lamp had been beaten into submission, snapped in three places and sporting a broken lightbulb.

And the coffee table. The coffee table was snapped down the middle and missing a leg. And yeah, it had been a cheap coffee table, but even a cheap coffee table should have been able to hold up under normal wear and tear. It looked like someone had slammed a dining room chair down into it, multiple times. And the leg of the table was put through the TV set.

Dick had always had his moods – especially on the anniversary of the accident – but Wally had never known him to be outright destructive. Except, you know, to himself, maybe.

A cupboard door was torn off its hinges and flung at a wall of picture frames.

Wally winced as he stepped fully inside and shut the door behind him. Glass cracked under his sneaker treads. “Hey, Dick? Where are you?”

There was a muted thump in the far room, which drew Wally like a shot from a barrel.

This thump was just Dick falling back against his mattress, though. Granted, all around him was more of the same wreck that Wally had seen in the front room.

“Dick,” he breathed.

“Hey, Walls,” Dick huffed out shakily.

“Are you—” Wally cleared his throat. Photo frames had been ripped from the walls and swiped off the desk and nightstands. “You really did a number on this place, huh?”

Dick gave a watery laugh and covered his face with both hands.

Wally winced to see Dick’s bloodied knuckles. “I heard you’d been taken off duty,” he said. He felt like he was facing off with a caged animal, with no way to know how it might respond. He hated feeling that way about his best friend.

“Yeah, I was – I got, uh,” he quieted miserably.

“Yeah. I heard.” Dick had been out of control. And, well, it was kind of hypocritical of the Big Bad Bat, given that Bruce was doing the same thing, but B had sent Dick home and told him to take a break. Focus on college work for a bit. Do normal things. Anything but suit up.

Dick had almost killed someone. Or so Wally’d been told.

“Fuck,” Dick said. He sounded stuffy and pained. And he was bandaged up from there to hell and back, besides. Reckless, careless, and out of control. It was the trifecta of things Dick Grayson was... usually a lot better about controlling and keeping away from.

“You wanna... we, uh—” Wally ran a hand through his hair. “Lets get those knuckles cleaned, yeah? Then go out or something.”

“Wally...”

“It’ll be good for you.”

“I’m really bad company right now,” Dick hadn’t uncovered his face. “Look around.”

“Yeah, I know. I mean. It’s not really your fault, is it, though?” Wally shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look, why don’t you, like, stay with me for a bit? Take the term off, maybe. Or commute via Zetas, if you want. But. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I don’t know...”

“It’s me or the Manor.”

Dick dropped his hands to either side of his head and huffed. “No, not the Manor. I can’t, right now. I... I just can’t.”

“So. Me, then,” Wally said.

“Wally...”

“I’ll pack for you, if I have to, but I’m seriously not going to let you stay here, alone, while you’re in the middle or mourning your little brother.”

Dick sobbed out a laugh. “Brother. I wasn’t much of a brother to him,” he muttered. ”And now he’s gone and I can’t even try to make up for it. Fuck.” He sat up and swiped his bedside lamp off the table. “Fuck! It’s not fair!”

Dick stood, clearly about to go on another destructive rampage. It scared Wally, but he still stepped in and wrapped his arms around Dick. “Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed. “Whoa, hey. It’s okay!”

“No, it’s not!”

“No, you’re right,” Wally agreed. He held tighter, and Dick started to sob, clinging to him right back. “You’re right. It’s not okay. And it’s not fair. And Jason deserved a lot better than he got,” Wally would have been lying if he’d said he didn’t want to kill the Joker for... all of it. But, he figured that the last thing Dick needed was more anger, so Wally swallowed it down. “It’s not okay. And you’re not okay. But we’ll get through this. We always get through stuff, right?”

Dick sagged in his arms. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I can’t either,” Wally mumbled. “Come on. We’re going to fix your hands up, then we’re out of here. You have an overnight somewhere, or should I pack that while you clean yourself off?”

“Wally...”

“No, I’m not taking no for an answer, bro. You need someone to be there for you. I don’t know if I’m the best one for it, but I’m gonna try, okay?”

Dick drew back, lips pursed, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

And he really wasn’t himself. The last piece of evidence had to be the way he didn’t even try to smile his thanks. He just slipped out of Wally’s arms and headed for the bathroom.

Wally barely waited for the door to shut before he was zipping around, cleaning as much of the apartment as he could. What was the Speedforce for if not to get shit done, right? The apartment managed to look vaguely livable again, by the time Dick was out of the bathroom, and Wally had an overnight bag packed with all of Dick’s favourite comfort clothing.

“Ready?”

“Wow,” Dick rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. “It’s almost like I never threw that tantrum.”

Wally shrugged and slipped his hand in Dick’s. He tugged gently. “Well, I wasn’t going to leave a mess for you to deal with when you got back, so I did a bit of tidying.”

Dick lifted their joined hands, “No homo?”

“Bro, please. Full homo,” Wally cracked a smile. “Sorry. Probably a bad time for jokes, huh?”

“I started it,” Dick shrugged one shoulder.

Wally nodded. A part of him wanted badly to ask why Dick had broken so many things, why he’d let go of his control like that, but he bit the questions back. Mourning a violent death couldn’t be easy, right? Dick had every right to act a bit out of character. Wally just wished he didn’t hurt himself in the meantime.

“Well, let’s go, then,” Wally slung the overnight bag over his shoulder and started for the apartment door, Dick in tow.

They made it through the door—

And ran right into Clancy.

“Oh,” Wally resisted the urge to either, A., step in front of Dick or, 2., drop his hand. He didn’t know the landlady too well, but he’d heard enough about her to recognize her on sight. Asian heritage, short hair, overalls, and that brogue. He’d heard the brogue the one time he’d faked sick for Dick, but meeting Clancy face-to-face? That was a first.

Anyway. He was a little leery of running into anyone with Dick in such a state.

“Clancy, right?” Wally shifted the overnight bag and offered a hand to shake. “I’m—”

“Oh, you must be Wally,” yup, there was that brogue. She shook his hand with both of hers and gave him a... sad smile? He couldn’t figure it out, but was ready to just brush it off. “Mr. Grayson’s told me lots about you.”

Dick scratched the side of his nose and turned away.

“No kidding,” Wally smiled.

“Bout time he got some where he wanted it, ‘stead of dating around,” Clancy nodded at their hands.

“Oh, well. We’re not... really? Dick, don’t tell me you, like, spent a date talking about me?”

“In my defense,” Dick coughed into his fist. “You were... absent.”

“Absent?”

“You were busy. Other plans, other obligations.”

Clancy chuckled into her hand. “He was jealous,” she confided. And damn, she really did have a thick accent. It was awesome!

“Right,” Wally said. He held Dick’s hand a bit tighter. He didn’t mean ‘dating Artemis’ did he? Yeah, he’d spent a lot more time with her, and a lot less time with Dick, but. “I guess... I’m sorry to have been absent, then? Must have ruined an otherwise great date, huh? Hearing about ye absent bestie.” He turned a grin to Clancy. “But, uh, neither of us are... getting any, right now. Least of all together. I mean, no. Not least of all, just...”

“Jason died,” Dick managed. It was a near thing, though, and he had to choke it out. The almost light mood Wally’d felt moments before shattered away.

Clancy deflated. “God. Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Dick nodded and shuffled a bit closer to Wally.

“So, he’s coming to stay with me for a bit,” Wally offered, a bit too fast and a bit too fidgety. “And,” he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Funeral, right? Fuck.” He brought his free hand up to wipe over his face, then specifically each eye. “Oh god, Jason—” and he’d been holding it together so well.  
Dick leaned a head on his shoulder.

Wally sniffed. “Yeah, uh. So. Heading out.” He jerked a thumb toward the stairs and coughed lightly, trying to ward the thickness from his voice.

“I’m so sorry,” Clancy repeated.

Dick nodded. Wally nodded.

Clancy nodded.

Everything got a bit teary.

Then Dick’s hold tightened almost painfully on Wally’s hand, his face colouring a bit as he sped right back into the anger that his grief had lead him to. Which meant that it was a hundred percent time to get moving.

“Anyway, bye Clance!” Wally said. He tugged Dick towards the stairs, with a sense of determination that he pulled from his ass. He didn’t even know he had any determination left, to be honest.

“I. He—” Dick sniffled into his free sleeve.

“I know,” Wally soothed. “Hold on, okay? I’ve got a punching bag at my place, anyway, if you need to beat into something for a bit. Yeah? And movies. And snacks. And lots of blankets. Oh! I have this great weighted blanket. We can totally veg out on the couch, if you want, and do a bunch of nothing.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Dick laughed wetly.

“Something pretty awful, probably.”

Dick swatted at him, laughing again. It was still wet and pathetic sounding, but it was a laugh, and a laugh was going to count for a win.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not dead!
> 
> I'm also not making promises about being more alive (active), but yeah. Working on stuff, writing stuff, playing Cyberpunk. That's what's up with me.
> 
> But yeah, I'm working on stuff. And yeah, some of it might actually get written before 2022 lmao, we'll see.


End file.
